


Only a Month or So

by SnowyWolff



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Human, Could This Also Be, Except Probably Not Lmao, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Future Mutual Pining, Hangover, M/M, Mentions of Sex, One Night Stands, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, So many lies, consensual drunk sex, enemies to lovers?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:08:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28796646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyWolff/pseuds/SnowyWolff
Summary: There was absolutelynoreason for Gilbert and Lovino to pretend to be in a relationship. They argued, they fought, they only interacted because they had mutual friends—hell, they might even actively hate one another. In conclusion, they weren’t a good match at all. But what started as an unnecessary drunken lie to prove a point to two different persons for two wildly different reasons quickly ensnared them in a web they didn’t know how to back out of anymore.
Relationships: Prussia/South Italy (Hetalia)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> People who have been following my stuff for a while might remember me mentioning the chances of me writing an actual multichapter were very slim, but since I’ve been losing steam on one shot ideas, my brain got stuck on this one instead and I figured 2021 might as well be the year we give multichapters another try!!

Gilbert woke with one of the _worst_ hangovers he’d had to date. His head seemed to still be pounding along the music he was sure had played at some point during the night.

The sun had already risen if the light from behind his eyelids was anything to go by, and he huddled deeper into the warmth of his comforter, set on not getting up until he seriously had to take a piss.

He was well on his way to dozing off again when he heard a deep sigh from behind him, and his old bed creaked as something cold pressed against Gilbert’s legs and something very warm against his back.

It took him a moment too long to realize that it was an arm that had been thrown over his waist, or that it were cold feet toeing at his shins, or that there was an actual, _very naked_ person _spooning him_ after a _very_ drunken night of which he remembered far too little.

“Oh, shit,” he cursed and sat up abruptly, though he instantly regretted it as not only his head screamed at the sudden onslaught his senses received—too bright, too much movement, too much of another person sharing a bed with him—but the ache in his thighs was joined by the distinct discomfort in his ass. Dear God.

The person groaned at Gilbert’s moving as well, turning onto his stomach to bury his face in one of Gilbert’s pillows.

Gilbert fumbled for his glasses, almost slapping them to the floor in his hurry to put them on so he could _see_.

Messy brown curls could almost convince him his roommate might have made the wrong turn into the wrong bedroom (wouldn’t have been the first time), but the freckles that seemed to cover every square inch of the man’s body refuted that. That, and the fact he would never sleep with Antonio; the man was as straight as a plank.

As he leaned closer to catch sight of the man’s face since his memory still failed him, he caught a whiff of very strong cologne, and it made a stone drop in his stomach.

No. No, no, no, _no_.

He refused to believe that he had slept with Lovino Vargas of all fucking people on this planet. He would _never_.

They argued all the time, Lovino had made it clear he had had no interest in Gilbert when they had first met via their friends years ago, and continued to have no interest in him since, only interacting with him because they were in the same group of friends. Gilbert, too, had lost all interest in him since Lovino had turned him down rather harshly, so there would be no way in hell they had actually slept together.

Except.

Except the tiny voice that managed to make it through the pounding of his head whispered, “Lovino does one-night stands all the time though,” and Gilbert would have to admit that the reality was right there in front of him.

Well, so was the fact that he was buck-naked sharing a bed with another buck-naked man, his ass was sore, and some vague memories flashed to the forefront of his mind that made him wish he could bleach his brain.

He did not need this right now.

He did desperately need a shower.

Brushing a hand through his hair, he scooted to the edge of the bed, getting up with a wince. Lovino hadn’t moved, and while a part of Gilbert really wanted to admire the freckles pooling in his lower back, partially hidden by the comforter, he _really_ didn’t want to be caught doing so by Lovino, so he slipped out of the room and into the bathroom, glad his room and the bathroom were around the corner so his roommates couldn’t see him.

The mess in the bathroom told him both his roommates had already stormed through it, and he would have been more annoyed about the hairs in the sink and the general mess of shower products everywhere, but right now it was a rather strange comfort. At least that hadn’t changed, unlike Gilbert’s sanity apparently.

The mirror made him feel worse than the hangover was already making him feel. Two dark hickies marked his neck, more littered his chest, and he even found one on the inside of his thigh. The teeth marks were a whole other crisis waiting to happen, so he skipped right over them.

As he stepped underneath the shower, turning it hotter than he preferred to properly scald his skin to rinse of his mistakes before he’d have to lower the temperature again to clean himself up, he tried to think back to the previous night.

He’d definitely drunk far too much. It was a miracle he’d gotten it up at all. His head still hurt like hell, and he’d have to shake the ibuprofen from Francis later, but glimpses of the last night revealed little about _how_ they had hooked up. He remembered arguing with Roderich, then Erzsébet, then more alcohol and loud, shitty dubstep that had no business in this day and age, and then…

He remembered the feeling of Lovino’s lips against his own, his breath against his neck and stomach, the feeling of him teasing him, preparing him, entering him…

The urge to bash his head against the wall was tempting, but he didn’t want to have to clean his blood off the wall, nor make his headache any worse, so he settled for pressing his forehead against the cold tiles instead. That was soothing his anguish a little.

At least they had used a condom. That was a very small consolation.

He had half a mind to make the warm water run out, but that meant more time alone with his thoughts, so after collecting his courage, he got out and spent an inordinate amount of time drying himself. When he couldn’t possibly prolong that any longer, and he had pulled out a fresh towel for Lovino, he padded back to his room.

Lovino was sitting up at least, phone in his lap, hair tangled and sticking up at odd angles. It could have been endearing, but the narrow look Gilbert was given ruined the sight significantly.

He decided to ignore him for now, heading over to his closet to rummage around for fresh clothes. No walk of shame for him, he thought smugly.

“The shower is directly across the door. Can’t miss it. Left a towel out for you,” Gilbert said, back turned to Lovino as he pulled on a pair of boxers. “Left knob is hot water, right cold. Don’t touch any of the shampoos with French names on them or Francis will commit murder.”

For a moment there was nothing, but then he heard the rustle of the sheets and the bed creaking as Lovino stood.

Gilbert waited until he heard the door of the bathroom open and close before making the bed, deciding to wash the sheets after Lovino had left. He tossed Lovino’s clothes on the bed as well, just to save them time of a search considering he found one sock on his bedside lamp and his shirt underneath Gilbert’s heap of clothes of the night before.

His phone was dead, so he plugged it in, then sat on the bed trying to come to terms with a life after having drunken sex with Lovino Vargas.

It _shouldn_ _’t_ matter, so the churning in his gut made him angry rather than uncomfortable.

Lovino had turned him down six years ago. That was fine. The way in which he had done so was a whole different matter, but Gilbert had put it behind him. He had needed to since they shared the same friends. But he didn’t have feelings for Lovino anymore.

They had just slept together. Casually. That was fine. Gilbert was a damn catch after all.

Having settled that, he got up to pretend to be busy at his desk so Lovino wouldn’t think he had been waiting on him.

When Lovino returned not much later, Gilbert was shuffling documents that he really shouldn’t be shuffling. He waited until he was certain Lovino was wearing most of his clothes before turning around, pursing his lips as Lovino pulled his undershirt over his head.

“We won’t mention this, right?” Gilbert asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as he could.

Lovino glanced at him and shrugged. He cleared his throat, his voice still rough, making it deeper than it already was. “Sure. It’s not like I remember much anyway.”

Yeah, he hadn’t been the one with a dick up his ass. Of course he wouldn’t remember shit.

“Good. Me neither.”

Lovino took the time buttoning his dress shirt, grabbing his phone from the nightstand and pocketing it. “My phone’s dead. Can I use yours to call a cab?”

Gilbert sighed. “Mine too. Better hope Francis or Antonio is home or you’ll have to walk.”

He ignored the glare he was shot and headed toward the living room, almost hoping his roommates were out. He also hoped Lovino’s shoes were at the front door because he really didn’t want to go on a search for them and maybe come to realize they hadn’t just fucked in Gilbert’s bed (though his memory remembered a more or less straight path to his bedroom).

Sadly, both his roommates were seated at the breakfast table, which meant Gilbert got neither a clean break nor the vengeance he believed he was due.

Francis almost dropped his phone before grinning when he saw them. Somewhere in his mind alarm bells started going off, but he ignored them.

Antonio twisted around in his chair excitedly and—really? Did they need an audience when his head already hurt enough?

“Morning,” he grumbled as Lovino came to stand next to him. “Can Lovino borrow a phone? Ours are empty.”

“Good morning.” Francis looked between the curiously before settling on Lovino. “You’re leaving already?”

Lovino frowned. “Yes?”

“You could join us for breakfast,” Antonio said, smiling. “You never even told us you guys were dating, so you should tell us all about it!”

Gilbert’s brain stopped processing after “dating”.

“ _Dating_?” he spluttered.

Lovino just looked at Antonio blankly.

“Yes?” Francis raised an eyebrow.

Lovino recovered before Gilbert’s mouth to brain function did. “What are you talking about, Francis? We just slept together.”

Antonio pulled out his phone, tapped away at it for a bit, and showed them a Facebook post on his cracked screen. It was a series of pictures from the account of Lovino’s twin brother, Feliciano, depicting, for a lack of better phrasing, Gilbert and Lovino being all over each other. Not just making out either, but sitting closely together, talking intimately, holding hands, all the romantic, _couple_ crap. The caption read: “Can’t believe my brother @Lovino Vargas kept this secret from us >:( But I wish him and @Gilbert Beilschmidt all the best!! 💖✨🌹💋🥰”

What the ever loving fuck? 

Lovino scrolled down to the comments—oh, _God_ , the comments. They were a slaughter all of their own. Most of their family and friends seemed to have already stumbled upon the post, many exclaiming in surprise, most being congratulatory, some saying they knew it all along (what?).

“Right,” Lovino said slowly.

Gilbert still didn’t know what to say, taking the phone from his fingers to look through the photos again, figuring they had to be photoshopped, right? Because he couldn’t remember shit about all of _that_.

Well, no. Behind the headache that was intensifying again with this bullshit, vague flashes resurfaced. The argument with Roderich about his love life and how he abso-fucking-lutely wasn’t jealous that Roderich and Erzsébet were dating now, and how it evolved beyond that, and then… and then… he might have lied about having a boyfriend, but then why _Lovino_? Why had Lovino _gone along with it_?

Should they continue lying? They really shouldn’t, right?

Lovino made the decision for him.

“Right,” he repeated, as if he just realized what was going on. “I guess the cat’s out of the bag.” He touched Gilbert’s lower back, and it took all his willpower not to fling the phone across the room. “It’s all very new still, and we wanted to see how things would work out for a bit before telling everyone, but I guess we both had a bit too much vodka last night.”

Gilbert looked at him, knowing his face hardly confirmed his story, but _what the hell, Vargas_?

Lovino’s hand had wandered to pinch his hip.

Reluctantly, Gilbert said, “Yeah. Since we’re so good at arguing all the time, we didn’t want to hype something we might end in a week.”

“That’s so depressing! That’s no way to start a relationship!” Antonio said as he took his phone back, then reconsidered as he offered it to Lovino again. “I should have enough minutes to call a cab.”

Lovino thanked him and called immediately. Meanwhile Gilbert frowned at Antonio.

“It’s true, though.” Maybe if he set it up right, they could break up right then. “I don’t appreciate Feli spreading that around without our permission!”

Lovino was giving him another look from the corner of his eye while giving the address to the driver.

“You gave it to him though,” Francis said, picking up his coffee mug.

Gilbert faltered immediately. “What?”

“Goodness, you really must have downed a keg. How you even managed to get it up last night is a miracle to me.” Francis ignored the sputter from Gilbert, who felt his face grow far too warm.

“It explains why they were so loud though,” Antonio chirped. “I could still hear you through the walls even with my noise-cancelling headphones on. You should really do something about the creaking of your bed, man.”

Gilbert sincerely wanted the ground to swallow him whole now, thank you. He took solace in the flush on Lovino’s face and how red his ears were turning as he finished up the call.

Francis laughed. “Am I ever glad my walls aren’t attached to any of your bedrooms.”

Lovino returned Antonio his phone. “But what did you mean with us giving Feli permission?”

“He asked if he could upload it while you two were… occupied.” Francis shrugged.

Lovino rubbed his face. “For fuck’s sake.”

“I don’t really see what the big deal is,” Antonio said. “If you two make each other happy, why keep it a secret?”

Gilbert grunted. “It’s the principle of the thing.” That and the fact this was rapidly going down a very steep cliff of lies.

“Well, what’s done is done.” Francis got up to put his plate in the sink, which would be the extent of his contribution to doing the dishes. “See it as an opportunity. Aurélie is celebrating her birthday next Friday, so now you can go as a couple.”

“Yes, of course,” Lovino said, not entirely convincing. He glanced at Gilbert. “I should head outside so I won’t miss my ride. Wait with me?”

Gilbert wanted to say no, but that would be weird, so he said “Sure” and headed to their small entry hallway to pull on his sneakers.

Lovino said nothing as Gilbert handed him his coat and opened the door for him. It wasn’t until they had stepped outside of the apartment building that Lovino finally explained himself.

“Everyone already saw that post. I’m not sure why we did… that, but it wouldn’t look good on me if people found out I was lying about being in a relationship.”

“You’re just an editor,” Gilbert pointed out.

“Of two very well-known novelists. I’m a public figure in the publishing world. It’s bad enough those pictures exist on the Internet now.” Lovino brushed his hair behind his ear impatiently. “Just suck it up for a month or so and then we can break up over unbridgeable differences.”

“A month _or so_? Why should I be inconvenienced because your brother couldn’t keep off of Facebook for a whole night?”

Lovino turned toward him to glare. “Because if my memory serves me right, _you_ were the one gallivanting about having some boyfriend you didn’t actually have!”

Gilbert sputtered. “I was drunk!”

“So was I!” Lovino held up a hand to stave off Gilbert’s response as he pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing out his anger in a deep sigh. “Listen. We both did something stupid. Do you really want to tell your entire family and all our friends you were so proud and up your own ass that you _lied_ about having a relationship?”

Pursing his lips, Gilbert scuffed his shoes against the pavement. “Okay, no. I don’t.” He most certainly didn’t want to admit as much to Roderich either. “But I don’t understand why you even went along with it in the first place.”

Lovino glanced at the road thoughtfully. “I haven’t had sex in a while, so I might have just been drunk enough to not mind whose pants I got into.” He looked back at him. “I guess drunk me was amused by whatever stunt you were pulling.”

“Fuck you.” Gilbert crossed his arms as he glared at him. “We’re never going to be able to even make this look realistic.”

“Good. The breakup won’t come as a surprise to anyone then.” A black Honda Civic pulled up after Lovino waved at it. “We just have to pretend when we’re with people anyway.”

Gilbert grabbed the door before Lovino could close it on him. “For a month.”

Lovino rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“And we won’t have to do anything weird?”

“Define weird.”

“You know.” Gilbert gestured, uncomfortable.

“Kissing?” At Gilbert’s look, Lovino scoffed. “It’s just a kiss. I don’t see the big deal when we’ve already gone as far as we have.”

“Drunk off our asses.”

“Oh, grow up.” Lovino pulled on the door, and Gilbert allowed him to close it.

He watched him leave, his stomach churning uncomfortably.

It was only a month, he reminded himself as he headed back inside, taking the stairs by two. That wouldn’t be too bad. That’s only four weeks. How many things would they have to be together for? There couldn’t be many.

So, what could go wrong?

When he got back to his apartment, Francis was kind enough to press an ibuprofen and a glass of water in his hands, while Antonio ushered him to sit down, asking far too many questions about his relationship with Lovino.

Gilbert told him his head hurt too much to think right now, so could they discuss this over dinner?

“Invite Lovino over as well then,” Francis said.

“I’ll ask.”

God, he was so screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there’s the start of this mess lmao  
> Hope you guys are ready to be strapped in for a long ride because Boy is there a Lot to explore in fake dating AUs (with a dash of enemies to lovers lmao). The rating… will likely get bumped up as well, just so y’all know what you’re signing up for
> 
> Comments are of course much appreciated <333


	2. Chapter 2

_‘Francis and Antonio want you to come over for dinner. Please tell me you’re busy forever_.’

Lovino rolled his eyes at the text he had received from Gilbert after his phone had charged enough to turn on again and he had changed out of his filthy clothes into something fresh. It was the easiest of the _many_ messages to deal with right now, so he reclined in his armchair and thought about the best course of action.

It wasn’t as if they really had to make this realistic. It just wouldn’t look good on him to deny what were apparently his own words said to his brother. Feliciano was a horrible gossip, sure, but he wouldn’t lie about something like this and most definitely wouldn’t post it on social media without Lovino’s explicit consent.

He knew why he had gone along with Gilbert’s buffoonery. It was as petty a reason as Gilbert’s, so it made him all the more reluctant to admit his drunk self had more than happily played along with Gilbert’s little lie. It wasn’t as if Gilbert was physically unattractive, just personality-wise.

In all honesty, Lovino was probably the more pitiful of them. Gilbert had just been bragging, as usual; Lovino had wanted to look like he wasn’t a lonely sack of bones in front of his ex. 

_‘I’m free tomorrow evening. I’ll be there by six-thirty.’_

Gilbert could suck it up for a month. Lovino hadn’t lied when he had wanted to save face for his public image; he’d just conveniently left out that that very explicitly included his ex, but that was mainly because his ex was an author aligned with his publishing company.

Moving on to the other messages, he ignored the family group chat having over a hundred messages and counting and instead pressed on Emma’s. He could deal with his best friend. Whether he could lie to her was another issue, but right now, he could deal with the _‘?????? Okay SO is Gilbert that good in bed or is there some other magical way you two stopped hating each other enough to see you were made for one another?’_ much easier than anything his family would spout the moment they realized he was conscious enough to reply.

Gilbert most certainly hadn’t been spectacular in bed from what Lovino could remember, but they had also been far too drunk to be anything but sloppy kisses and sloppier movements. At the very least he had been surprised to find Gilbert not a total virgin, so kudos to him for getting laid at least once in his life.

_‘Made for one another sounds a bit excessive, but I suppose we found a way to look past our differences.’_

They were both willing to pretend to not hate one another for the sake of looking better than they really were after all. That was one thing they now had in common.

Next were the wall of Facebook notifications. He hardly ever used his account apart from business and public relations, so it was rather overwhelming to read through the comments left on Feliciano’s post, especially because they seemed to have increased since he had scanned through them on Antonio’s phone earlier, as well as the load of DMs of family, friends, and coworkers.

He was almost glad when Emma called him, interrupting what was quickly becoming a rabbit hole down to Regretland, though it also meant having to lie to her. Fuck.

“Hey, Em,” he said as he answered, aiming for nonchalance even though he was anything but relaxed.

“Seriously, Lovino. What the hell is going on?” He could hear the telltale noise of dance practice in the background.

“We’re just trying this out. We knew how people were going to react, so that’s why we kept it secret.”

“For how long?”

“Uhh, maybe a few weeks?”

“You don’t know?”

“We’ve been busy, all right?”

“Oh, I’m sure you two have been,” she all but purred. “Meet me for lunch?”

“It’s two.”

“Belated lunch. Teatime. Emma Wants To Know All The Details Or So Help Her Time.”

Lovino sighed. “Fine, fine. The usual place?”

“Absolutely! You’re paying. Love you!” She hung up before he could protest. Typical.

He pursed his lips as he looked at the screen, closing out of the Facebook app and heading back to his messages. The group chat still looked daunting, so instead he went to Feliciano’s strain of drunk messages from the last night.

_‘lovino!!!! why didn’t you tell meeeeee??? :((((((’_

_‘you and herbert are soooo cute togetherrr!!!’_

_‘i mean gilbert asdfghjkl’_

_‘unless you also have another secret bf named herbert then we rlly need to talk >:(’_

‘ _but i’m rlly happy for youuuu bc you deserve a bf that loves you and adores you and looks at you like gilbert does!!!!’_

It was followed by two pictures: one of Lovino and Gilbert looking incredibly drunk, but also sitting closely, laughing about something, heads bowed together, and the other depicted them dancing—or so he assumed as they were on the dance floor—but really it seemed more like fondling and feeling each other up (and how grateful he was his brother hadn’t shared that one with the world; he’d probably die of embarrassment). They were both such intimate pictures, and it was strange how well they apparently pulled off lying while so fucking drunk neither could even stand straight.

After the pictures, there were two more messages from Feliciano, these from this morning.

_‘ok but for real congrats on the bf!!! i’m still offended you kept this secret from me but you probably had a good reason so i’ll forgive you_ 💕 _’_

_‘nonna wants him over asap so you’d better reply in the group chat before they’ve finished planning your wedding!! love you!!!_ 😘🥂 _’_

Fucking hell.

He didn’t want to dwell too much on Feliciano’s drunken ramblings, but he found himself looking at the pictures again, but neither captured Gilbert’s expression well. It was probably just acting anyway. There were no feelings between them.

_‘Thanks. We wanted to take things slow, but I guess it was bound to come out someday. Nonna can wait a little longer; we’re barely dating. Love you too.’_

Feliciano hadn’t been joking about the group chat either. The last few messages read:

_Nonno: ‘Do I get to give Lovino away?’_

_Gianluca: ‘lmao as if Lovi would ever get married’_

_Savina: ‘Yeah we all know he can’t keep a partner to save his life’_

_Feliciano: ‘idk they seemed reaaaaally lovey-dovey’_

_Feliciano: ‘maybe gilbert is the one’_

_Pietro: ‘maybe he’s just getting old and settling’_

_Feliciano: ‘that’s cruel pietro ;A; i’m the same age as him!!!!’_

_Nonna: ‘You kids are making me worry! I want to meet this Gilbert to see if he’s worthy of my grandson!’_

_Nonno: ‘I’m sure he’s a fine man, Helena. In fact, he reminds me a little of myself when I was younger from what we’ve heard of him so far.’_

_Nonna: ‘That just makes me worry more!’_

At this rate he was going to need another ibuprofen. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of a response that would give enough information to satisfy them, yet not enough for them to pick apart and question.

_‘Christ, Gilbert and I have barely been together for a few weeks. Can you guys please act normal for once and not freak him out before he’s even met you guys?’_

Almost immediately his family started responding.

_Gianluca: ‘omfg it lives :0’_

_Vincente: ‘He must have really tired you out huh??’_

_Savina: ‘Gross’_

_Nonna: ‘Lovino! When are you and this Gilbert coming over?’_

Preferably never, but that wouldn’t fly with her. Not after the fiasco of his previous relationship.

_‘I’ll have to ask him, nonna. I’ll let you know.’_

_Nonna: ‘Ask him for next Sunday, Lovino. And tell me what he doesn’t like!’_

Me, clearly, Lovino thought as he remembered his callous attitude that morning.

_‘Will do.’_

Gilbert hadn’t replied to his message yet, though he had seen it. Well, Lovino would spur something out of him this way. Gilbert was likely going to pitch a fit over having to spend even more time with Lovino than he had to, but that was his own fault really.

_‘My grandparents want me to invite you to dinner next Sunday. And to tell them what you won’t eat.’_

***

Emma tossed her purse in one of the empty chairs opposite Lovino, sliding into the other after shrugging off her coat and dropping it on top of her purse.

Lovino had already been browsing the menu, handing it to her after another minute to decide on his order.

“Ordered you a vanilla latte,” he said by way of greeting.

“Ah, good. I need some caffeine. The production we’re doing now, Lovi, you have no idea how annoying the choreography is.” She removed her hair band, laying it on the table, and used both her hands to brush her hair back before sliding it back in. “What are you having?”

“Soup.”

“Hangover?”

“You have no idea.”

She hummed. “I wish I could’ve joined. Those pictures look like a hoot.” This, she followed up with a smirk.

“Hm.” He smiled as the waitress arrived with their coffees and relayed his order to her, Emma giving her own after. When she had left again, he sighed deeply. “You didn’t miss much.”

“Um. I missed the reveal of your _secret_ _boyfriend_ ,” she said, eyes wide and eyebrows raised in disbelief, as if she couldn’t believe he had dared to leave her out of the announcement.

“It’s.” He pursed his lips, not knowing what to reply. “We hadn’t exactly planned for it.”

“No joke. You’re acting like you’re breaking up.” Emma rested her face in her hand.

If only.

“Of course not.” He drank from his cappuccino to give himself some time to think. “You know I don’t enjoy spreading stuff online. I’ve received so many messages from my coworkers… It’s embarrassing.”

Emma frowned. “They’re cute pictures though. You’re not doing anything too indecent. Apart from sharing some kisses and looking really drunk.”

Lovino shrugged.

Emma was quiet for a while, studying him. “Are you still hung up on—”

“God, no,” he lied because in the end that was precisely what was going on. Jealous, petty, and pathetic. “It’s just… a little overwhelming.”

She patted his hand sympathetically. “I’m happy for you though, even if I’m a bit surprised that it’s Gilbert. How did that even happen?”

That… was a good question.

“Well,” Lovino said, thinking quickly. What was something him and Gilbert could have bonded over? Had there been any time they could’ve spent together after a gathering in the past month? Was that even feasible?

He chuckled, hoping the nervousness could be mistaken for sheepishness. “You’re going to laugh. It’s, uh. It’s really stupid.”

Emma raised her eyebrows. “I wouldn’t really expect anything different knowing you two.”

“Right.” He stared into his coffee. “So, remember that, um, that movie night at Alfred’s a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember how shit Gilbert and I thought that horror movie Alfred chose was?”

“Uh-huh…” Emma had started grinning. That meant he was saying something believable at least.

“And how we left at the same time to walk to the busstop since I couldn’t get a hold of a cab and I hadn’t bothered to drive as we’d be drinking?”

“Oh my God.”

“Yeah, so we got talking about Alfred’s bad taste, and then about actual _good_ horror movies, and then I might have, um, invited him inside for coffee.” In reality, while they did have a short conversation on Alfred’s bad taste, they had spent most of the walk in silence and had stood apart at the busstop, taking separate seats after boarding.

“Oh. My. _God_.”

“And stuff just kind of happened from there.” He brushed a hand through his hair, glancing out of the window. It was a pretty pathetic start of a relationship, but considering their… antagonism, sex seemed like a good way to move past that.

Emma snorted. “That’s not so bad. Bonding over horror movies is honestly rather sweet knowing your repertoire.” She took a sip of her latte, eyeing him as she did. “So, the sex _was_ that good then?”

Lovino scoffed. “It was fine. It was more…” He trailed off, trying to think of how Gilbert had behaved last night. Touchy-feely, breathy laughter, loud despite trying to whisper… He couldn’t recall the words, but he did remember liking Gilbert’s body and the sex then. He really had no standards when he was drunk, did he?

“Gilbert, I guess,” he finished, trying not to cringe at the lameness of that.

Emma raised a skeptic eyebrow.

“I mean, as in, Gilbert being Gilbert made the sex good?” Now he was just digging through one of his author’s unpublished manuscripts. Truly he had hit a new low.

Emma burst out laughing, not stopping even when the waitress returned with their orders, managing to breathe a thank you in between her snorts.

Honestly, Lovino couldn’t blame her. It sounded ridiculous, but it was the only thing he could come up with currently. They probably should have ironed this out earlier, but Gilbert still hadn’t replied to his messages. Asshole.

“So, then,” Emma managed after she had finally calmed down a little, “what do you like about him?”

Oh, fuck.

He hummed, blowing on his mustard soup as he thought.

Redeemable qualities of Gilbert Beilschmidt… Liked horror movies. Mostly good looking, especially through the lenses of alcohol. Good enough in bed that Lovino didn’t quite regret sleeping with him. Drunk at least.

What else, what else…?

Did Lovino really know that little about him despite having known him for six years? Well, he had purposefully distanced himself after Gilbert had asked him out then, but still… This was kind of sad.

It also meant homework. Yay.

“He’s pretty sweet once you get to know him,” he settled on eventually, figuring that even Gilbert could be in an actual relationship.

Emma observed him for a moment, then softened with a small sigh. “That’s good. You deserve a boyfriend that’s sweet to you and spoils you.”

Lovino paused just as he lifted a spoonful of soup to his mouth, then quickly shoved it inside, even if it was still too hot. “Yes, well, he _is_ still Gilbert.”

“So?”

Lovino shrugged. “He’s a little rough around the edges.”

Emma almost snorted out her sandwich. “Oh, honey, you _like_ your men rough around the edges.”

He blinked at her. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You would be bored out of your mind with a partner who’s all perfect and wonderful and nice because you aren’t either. You like it when someone talks back to you.” She smirked. “And we all know how much you and Gilbert talk back to each other.”

He frowned, not knowing how to feel about that. It sort of explained those comments of Feliks, Mikkel and Hedvika claiming they had had a hunch, but he didn’t like that people had apparently thought there could be something between him and Gilbert when Lovino had turned him down already.

“I suppose,” he said because denying it could possibly mean more questions on things he didn’t know of Gilbert.

“But I am really happy for you, for both of you,” she said after a pause where they simply ate. When he didn’t reply immediately, she toed at his leg. “You _are_ happy, right?”

“Yes, Emma.” He sighed in mild exasperation. “Gil and I are very happy.”

She smiled brightly. “I’m glad! We should have lunch together sometime then. _And_ make sure to invite him to the opening night of my next performance.”

“Yes, yes.” He rolled his eyes. “Don’t know how he feels about ballet, but I’ll bully him into it if I have to.”

“Good!” she chirped. “Oh, and if he hurts you, I’ll break him for you.”

***

By the time Lovino had returned home and settled himself in his chair with a manuscript, he finally received a reply from Gilbert in the form of a phone call. Lovino answered it with a sigh, moving his reading glasses to the top of his head.

“Why do I have to meet your family?” Gilbert asked, not bothering with a greeting.

“Good afternoon to you too,” Lovino replied dryly. “Because my grandmother wants to meet you.”

“So?”

“ _So_ , are you available next Sunday or not?”

Gilbert grumbled something before speaking up. “Sure, whatever. I have work early on Monday though.”

Was it bad Lovino didn’t actually know what kind of work Gilbert did? Well, no, that wasn’t entirely true. He did something in science; he remembered Gilbert and Alfred having a loud conversation about how many of the stereotypes they didn’t check while working in the sciences, but he had tuned it out to listen to more interesting conversation.

“Good.”

The silence stretched on awkwardly before Lovino broached the topic he rather wouldn’t. “So, uh, I met with Emma earlier, and she asked me when we got together, so I told her it was after that movie party at Alfred’s a month ago and that we bonded over good and bad horror movies. And, uh. And then we had sex.”

Gilbert groaned, and there was a loud thump followed by a lot of rustling of what Lovino presumed to be bedsheets.

“Anyway,” Lovino continued when Gilbert remained silent, “I think we should probably figure out our whole backstory and… get to know each other a little more because right now I’m struggling to name any things I could possibly like about you.”

“Right.” Gilbert’s voice sounded strained before Lovino heard a door open and Gilbert cussing softly. Gilbert was probably covering the microphone as all Lovino heard was the cadence of people speaking. Then, Gilbert’s voice returned in all its hoarseness. “You’re not coming over for dinner tonight, right?”

“No. I texted you. Tomorrow. Six-thirty.”

Gilbert relayed, then sounded dismayed. “Apparently, Francis and Antonio are both out tomorrow. Monday?”

“Give me a moment.” Lovino sighed, standing up to find his planner in his office. “I have a meeting that should end at five, but could be later.”

A pause. “That’s fine. Just come here whenever you’re free.”

“Sure.”

The microphone was covered again before the sound of the door closing made Gilbert sigh once more. “This is already exhausting.”

Lovino hummed as he considered his words carefully, reluctantly speaking them.“We should probably meet tomorrow to iron out details.”

“What? Can’t we do it now?”

“I’m working.”

“You shouldn’t procrastinate.”

“Don’t tell me how to do my job.” Lovino scowled as he went to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water and more ibuprofen.

“Can’t we call tomorrow then?”

“Having your voice breathe in my ear is annoying.”

“God, you’re such an asshole.”

Lovino ignored him. “I can bring lunch. It’s easier face to face anyway since you also need to learn to stop jumping when I touch you.” Not that Lovino particularly felt like feeling Gilbert up any more than he had to, but it wouldn’t hurt. “Besides, it would seem like the thing to do when you’re dating and your roommates are out anyway.”

Gilbert was silent for a moment, then mumbled, “For fuck’s sake.”

“I take that as a yes. What time works?”

“Antonio leaves at twelve-thirty. Francis about half an hour later.”

“I’ll be there by one-thirty then.”

“Bring Thai food. Nothing too spicy, though.”

Rolling his eyes, Lovino heaved a heavy sigh he made sure carried over the phone. “Sure thing. See you tomorrow then.”

“Yay.” Gilbert hung up without another word.

Lovino slid his phone onto the coffee table, sagging down in his chair. This was going to be a _long_ fucking month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovino’s siblings are various Italian state OCs I really need to develop at some point, so I’ll just toss those into the mix since Lovino (and by extension Gilbert) really should be bullied in this fic and no one can do a better job at that than siblings
> 
> These starting chapters are a little slow since we’re setting the stage, but either next chapter or the one after the fake dating shenanigans are truly going to start >:3c
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and comments so far!!! Please keep them coming because they made me really excited to continue!!


	3. Chapter 3

Gilbert was staring listlessly at the wall, feeling all kinds of wrong about Lovino coming over to… what, really? Solidify their lie? Actually talk to each other? Touch each other? God.

Francis hadn’t left yet, hogging the bathroom to fuss over his hair and makeup for hours for whatever date he was going on now.

It was nearing one-thirty, which meant Lovino could show up whenever, and if Francis didn’t fuck off soon, they might actually have to—

The intercom buzzed, and Gilbert wanted to die.

He took his sweet time getting up from the couch and sauntering over to the intercom, to the point where there was a second buzz, longer and more insistent.

“I’m here,” Lovino said the moment Gilbert pressed the button that allowed communication.

“Yeah, yeah,” Gilbert grumbled into the microphone. “Come on up.” He had half a mind to not press the buzzer, but decided he didn’t really want to piss Lovino off and ruin his day further.

He opened the hallway door and leaned in the doorway so he could intercept Lovino before they could ruin the whole thing before it had even really begun. Francis would never let him live it down.

Lovino raised one of his meticulously plucked eyebrow at him once he had made his way down the open gallery, the wind ruffling his hair. He was holding a plastic bag, presumably with their belated lunch.

“Francis hasn’t left yet,” Gilbert said in a low voice, throwing a glance past his shoulder. “So, uh, yeah.”

The meticulously plucked eyebrows pinched together in an annoyed frown. “I see.”

Moving away from the door, he lingered in the small hallway and watched Lovino shed his coat, toe of his shoes and brushing a hand through his, now much less unruly, curls.

In moments like these, Gilbert remembered why he had fallen for Lovino then, six years ago, but then Lovino looked up with that expression that reminded Gilbert of curdled milk and he was glad nothing had ever happened between them. Lovino wasn’t a pleasant person. He was rude and mean and brutally honest (unless it apparently involved schemes like this).

Gilbert hated the latter the most.

He turned with a scoff and made it three steps before Francis turned the corner, fresh from the bathroom, and Lovino bumped into his back, mouth opening to say something likely scathing, but catching sight of Francis as Gilbert turned slightly.

The switch was honestly a little freaky.

Lovino’s free hand slid lightly around Gilbert’s waist as he smoothly stepped around Gilbert, his scowl softening into a more human expression.

“Hey, Francis,” he said.

“Lovino!” Francis smiled, though he raised an eyebrow at Gilbert, who was stuck somewhere between bewilderment and disassociation. “I’ll be out of your hair soon, don’t worry. My date texted me he’d be late, so I figured I should spend some extra time on looking my best.”

“It’s fine,” Lovino dismissed, eyeing Francis up and down. “Is it that special of a date?”

“All dates are special, darling.” Francis flicked his hair back.

Gilbert snorted. “Please. You’ve been hogging the bathroom all morning. No date has been _that_ special before.”

“Oh?” Lovino raised his eyebrow, leaning forward curiously.

Interestingly, Francis blushed, which Gilbert had seen happen a grand total of four times, none of them ever at the mention of a partner or a date.

“I suppose I quite enjoy his company,” Francis said slowly, carefully.

“Do you now?” Gilbert grinned wolfishly, forgetting the hand still planted on the small of his back. “Maybe you should invite _him_ over for dinner sometime soon as well, huh?”

Francis scoffed. “Please, Gilbert. This is only our third date.” He looked between him and Lovino, crossing his arms. “Unlike the two of you fully dating behind everyone’s backs.”

Gilbert managed an awkward laugh, evading Francis’ eye. “Yeah, uh. Yeah.”

Lovino finally withdrew his hand, crossing his arms in front of his chest instead. “You don’t want to be in a relationship with this guy?”

“It’s a little early to make a commitment like that,” Francis replied with a shrug. He took out his phone to check the time. “I guess I’ll be on my way now. See you tomorrow, Lovino.”

Francis didn’t dawdle, though Gilbert had to remind him to take his keys, and before long they were left alone. Now, had they actually been dating, it could have lead to something fun, but obviously that wouldn’t happen again anytime soon. Especially because Lovino was extremely unimpressed with Gilbert fetching himself a knife and fork to eat with.

“What?” Gilbert asked as he slid into a chair at the kitchen table, reaching for the other styrofoam box.

Lovino snapped his chopsticks at him. “You’re really eating Thai with a fork.”

“Oh, fuck off. My hands won’t cooperate with chopsticks.”

Lovino rolled his eyes as he stuffed some pork in his mouth. He also made a face when Gilbert swirled his noodles around his fork as if he was eating pasta, but at least he didn’t bother to comment.

“So,” Gilbert began, unnerved by the silence. Because, as much as he didn’t _want_ to talk to Lovino, he disliked weird silence over food more. “What did you tell Emma again?”

Lovino finished his mouthful before answering. “That movie party of Alfred’s. We got talking because it was so goddamn awful. Shared the walk and bus ride home. Invited you in for coffee, etcetera.”

Gilbert sighed deeply. “Why sex?”

He was given a dry look. “Would you really believe the two of us could magically fall in love after years of not giving a shit over Alfred’s horrible movie taste alone?”

“Sex sounds even cheaper.” He pursed his lips.

“What? Did you want some magical romance?—love at… the thousandth sight?”

Gilbert decided not to reply apart from a frustrated huff. He could feel Lovino’s narrow gaze boring into him, but he focused on the (heavenly) beef curry. Thankfully, Lovino hadn’t decided to be an ass and had gotten him something without spice, unlike Francis on many occasions when he was pissed with him, so his mouth and bowels survived for another day.

“So is sex how you usually start your relationships?” Gilbert’s stupid mouth asked before his brain had given any sort of permission. Meeting Lovino’s eyes was a definite mistake as well and he had the urge to turn up the thermostat.

“Well, incidentally, it’s also the start of yours this time around, so do you really want to go there?” Lovino’s voice was razor sharp.

“Not really, no.” He made sure to stuff a too large piece of beef in his mouth before it could decide to make any other stupid comments.

The silence was worse this time around, but thankfully it didn’t last very long as Lovino broke it himself and completely blind-sided Gilbert. “Are you someone who goes on dates?”

He blinked at him. “I… what?”

Lovino gestured with his chopsticks. “You know. Are you someone who goes on dates a lot?”

“Uh, kinda, I guess?” He pushed some vegetables around. “I like going out and doing stuff. Museums and shit. But I also like to stay in and do things like watching movies and playing video games, so I’d invite my partners to that often as well.”

Lovino hummed. “Would it be suspicious if you weren’t going out and inviting me over?”

Ah. Fuck.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Fantastic,” Lovino sighed.

“Do _you_ never go on a date then?” Gilbert asked, not liking how Lovino was portraying having to interact more often as a problem Gilbert alone caused.

“Not often, really.” Gilbert caught the way he paused, as if he wanted to say something more, but instead Lovino clamped his jaws shut.

Gilbert sighed, realizing where this was leading now. “So you want to set up, like, fake dates as well then?”

“I don’t _want_ to,” Lovino said reluctantly, “but it’ll make sense to… to plan a couple of those? Or at least… hang out more. I guess.”

“Right.”

This was becoming awkward very fast. Great. What a stellar couple they made.

Not feeling hungry anymore, Gilbert got up to put his leftovers in the fridge. It gave him an excuse to busy his mind with something, and he eyed the dishes his roommates had left in the sink critically, as if they held all the answers to the pickle he got himself into.

Because in the end, he had no one but himself to blame. And sure, Lovino was mad to have gone along with it for some wild reason, but Gilbert had initiated it. He had gotten upset with Roderich for insinuating he’d be single forever if he didn’t get his shit together and he had blurted and then bragged about having some nonexistent boyfriend. He was still a bit muddled on the _how and why_ Lovino had taken on that role considering the myriad of less detestable people present in the bar, but he would have to live with the cards he had cheated with.

Lovino mumbled something behind him, interrupting his thoughts.

Gilbert blinked out of his daze, turning to face Lovino again, though he was frowning at his food instead. “What was that?”

Lovino sighed. “I asked what you do for a job.”

“You don’t know?”

“I wouldn’t be asking if I did.”

Gilbert pursed his lips, but as he leaned against the kitchen counter he decided it would be over sooner if he wouldn’t fight Lovino at every step. “I’m a lab tech in a research laboratory associated with the university.”

Lovino almost seemed surprised by his immediate answer, nodding slowly, and then glanced him up and down as if deciding whether it was a job that suited Gilbert. “What… exactly do you… _do_ as a lab tech?”

“Well, uh, lots of things, depending on where you’re a lab tech.” He scratched the side of his neck. “But usually it’s researching, experimenting, maintenance of equipment, writing reports, that kind of stuff.”

Lovino rolled his eyes, pushing his lunch away from himself to rest his elbow on the table. “Yes, and I read manuscripts, argue with authors and have meetings all the time. Like what is it you research?”

“A bunch of stuff.” Gilbert shrugged. “Chemicals, biological samples, what they are, the way they work and interact. Sometimes we do experiments, other times it’s tossing things underneath a microscope and observe them. It’s different, yet the same all the time.”

Lovino snorted. “Sounds like my job. The last part, I mean. God knows chemistry was one of my worst subjects.”

“It was? It was my favourite.”

“Makes sense considering. But yeah. Didn’t understand shit of those formulas and calculations. I was decent in biology though, just not as good as in like languages, arts and history.” Lovino pushed back from the table, closing the styrofoam container. “Where’s the—”

Gilbert opened one of the cabinets, revealing the built in trash can. “I sucked at arts and geography. Technically I also sucked at maths, but I worked my ass off because I wanted to be able to get into the university I wanted to study at. Thankfully, it did pay off.”

After tossing the container, he stepped back so Gilbert could push the cabinet closed and crossed his arms. “Did you know what you wanted to do right out of high school?”

“I knew what I wanted to do since I was in eighth grade and this huge nerd made a fool out of himself during the job fair, but the whole ‘playing with chemicals’ sounded cool then, and I do hope to move up to being an actual chemist eventually, so yeah. Lab tech.”

Lovino’s lips quirked into a small smile, though he pursed his lips to hide it. “You wanted to be a nerd and make a fool out of yourself when you grew up?”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Gilbert challenged, not sure why he felt his hackles rise.

“I guess you managed at least the second part,” Lovino said.

Ah, so that was why.

“Yep, a great big fool. That’s me. And you’re dating that fool, so that makes you one too.” Gilbert sniffed, not in the mood for more arguing on whose fault this was (even if he privately admitted it was his fault).

“Yeah, guess it does.”

That wasn’t quite the answer he had been expecting, nor was the self-conscious expression that flitted over Lovino’s features as he glanced away to the side. Yet, it was gone in the next moment as Lovino rolled his shoulders and angled his body toward the couch in the living room.

“I suppose that makes us a ‘good’ couple,” Lovino continued, though Gilbert wasn’t sure whether he was joking or mocking. He glanced back at Gilbert, nodding toward the living room. “So you like your job then?”

“Yeah.” Gilbert followed after him, debating where to sit in his own damn living room as Lovino claimed the couch. One of the chairs Antonio had brought in four years ago when he had moved in with Gilbert and Francis came straight from hell, old and lumpy and hideously patterned (but it had _sentimental value_ because he’d inherited it from his great-uncle so they couldn’t possibly get rid if it!) and the other Gilbert knew for a fact Francis had done unholy things in. And while he’d replaced the leather, Gilbert rather preferred to avoid the memories, so in the end he fell down on the couch as well, ignoring the way Lovino froze for a moment.

And he had had the audacity to call Gilbert out on freezing when he was being touched intimately by someone who wasn’t his actual boyfriend.

“Did you want to be an editor when you were younger?” Gilbert asked after a pause, figuring he might as well continue on this line of questioning.

“No.” Lovino leaned back, brushing a hand through his hair, gazing at the TV blankly. “I had no idea what I wanted, honestly. Not like Ciano. I didn’t even know what I wanted to major in and then just picked English lit because books are generally cool and wouldn’t make me go bald by thirty.”

“Huh,” Gilbert hummed thoughtfully.

“Yeah. I got really lucky, honestly. I managed to land an internship in my last year, then one of their editors passed away suddenly, and since they found me a good and promising worker, they offered me a permanent position. It was a steep learning curve, especially because I was also finishing my degree, but it worked out.”

“That’s actually rather impressive.” Gilbert purposefully looked away from Lovino, feeling his eyes burn into the side of his face again, his own eyes settling on the coffee stain on the table. “A bit morbid, in a way, but working full time and studying is a bitch, so, uh, kudos to you, I guess.”

“Thanks,” Lovino said after a weirdly heavy pause.

Gilbert glanced at him, but Lovino’s eyes were hard and unreadable. “Do you like it?”

“Being an editor?” Lovino shrugged. “I’m not really complaining. It’s definitely not the worst.”

“But?”

Lovino frowned slightly, but then shrugged dismissively. “It’s work. I’m not a particular fan of the capitalist concept of it.”

Gilbert wasn’t stupid. He knew there was definitely some sort of issue, but he wasn’t going to pry. This was supposed to be superficial anyway.

He breathed out a deep sigh in solidarity. “You tell me.”

The silence stretched again. It… wasn’t as bad as before, but it was clearly weighted with _something_ , though he wasn’t entirely sure whether it was because “getting to know each other” didn’t quite work when you didn’t actually want to get to know each other or because they had touched on what was apparently a sensitive subject.

He startled when Lovino sat himself closer to him, leaning against his side.

“Uh—”

“Stop freaking out.”

“Don’t just do shit like that!”

“People aren’t going to believe us if you keep looking as if you shat your pants whenever I touch you.”

Gilbert dug his fingers into his legs for a moment before lowering his shoulders. He turned slightly so Lovino could rest more comfortably against his side, resting his arm along the backrest of the couch.

“You’re tense yourself, you know,” Gilbert said, sounding just a little smug.

“Oh, shut up.” Lovino jammed his elbow into Gilbert’s side first, catching him off guard, before settling against him.

Exhaling slowly, Gilbert couldn’t help but feel extremely on edge, even though it wasn’t nearly as bad as he had thought it would be. He wasn’t entirely sure _how_ it could be worse, but with Lovino one could never know.

“What’s your family like?” Lovino asked after the awkwardness had well and truly settled in.

Gilbert shrugged, jostling Lovino slightly in the process and receiving a short reproachful look. “Normal? Mom and dad are happily married, my older sister is a lawyer, a damn good one, and my baby brother is in his second year of pre-med.”

“Do they know? About us, I mean.”

“Hildegard saw, yeah. Made me tell everyone else. Mom scolded me to hell and back for not telling her.”

“Protective?”

“Nah. She’s under the impression I’ll die a sad, lonely bachelor and she’s ‘just looking out for me’. It’s a bit much, but since all her kids have now moved out of the house, she’s trying to be involved in other ways in our lives, so I’ll give her a pass.”

Lovino hummed. “And your dad?”

“Being a dad. All like”—he deepened his voice to copy his father’s—“‘Introduce him to us soon to appease your mother. I’m proud of you, son.’ And then he did the awkward shoulder pat and changed the subject.”

The little huff that came from Lovino was almost a laugh, but when Gilbert glanced at him, he was gazing at the TV again.

“What’s your family like?” Gilbert asked. “I mean, I know Feli. Sometimes it’s hard to imagine the two of you are twins.”

“Yeah, sometimes I forget as well since Ciano can act like such a baby.” Lovino brushed his hair back. “It’s just my many, many, exhausting siblings and our maternal grandparents, as well as our aunt and cousins. We have a lot of family overseas, in Italy and Greece, but my grandparents were the only ones that immigrated in the forties and fifties.

“You’re the oldest?”

“No. Ginevra. She’s the head chef of _Paradiso_ , you know, that hipster restaurant uptown?”

“Yeah, I’ve been there once or twice. It was pricey, but good.”

“It’s horribly overpriced. Ginevra finds it hilarious.” Lovino exhaled a chuckle before continuing soberly, “Anyway, me and Ciano are next, though I have two hours on him.” Gilbert could hear the smug smile in his voice, but again Lovino’s expression revealed nothing out of the ordinary. “And we’re followed by Savina, Pietro, Gianluca and Vincente. Benvenuto is the baby of the family, though he is more mature than Ciano. He was a bit of an accident, and he’s a lot younger than us. Still a teen in high school.”

“Doing TikTok dances, I presume?”

“Yeah, no clue what that’s all about. Or half the stuff that leaves his mouth, really.” Lovino sighed. “Our parents died in an accident not a year after he was born, so he never got to know our parents.”

The way Lovino spoke of his parents’ passing was calm and detached, but Gilbert still felt hesitant to ask more about them. Still, he was too curious not to ask: “How old were you when they died?”

“Sixteen.” Lovino shifted slightly. “It was rough, but at least I still got a decent amount of time with them. Unlike my younger siblings.”

Gilbert frowned slightly. “I’d say that gives you all the more reason to miss them, doesn’t it?”

Lovino was quiet for a moment. “Maybe. But it’s been fifteen years now, so I’ve had more than plenty of that.”

That was it for that topic, Gilbert supposed, considering Lovino’s voice was dismissive and clipped. Well, Gilbert didn’t blame him for that; he couldn’t imagine his parents dying when he was sixteen. None of his grandparents had passed away either. Death was something he hadn’t faced personally yet. He hoped he wouldn’t have to for a very long time.

“Ah, well,” Lovino sighed. “It’s a depressing subject. Definitely don’t bring that up on Sunday.”

Gilbert shot him a look. “Sheesh, who do you take me for? I have some tact, you know.”

Lovino shrugged. “Just checking. Grandma has a mean swing according to grandpa.”

“Now I’m almost tempted, just to witness that.”

He received another elbow in his ribs, but it was almost teasingly, though he kept his mouth shut about it.

“So, what’s left?”

“Hobbies?” Lovino asked after a pause. “Mine are more reading, ballroom dancing, watching shitty soap operas, and gardening.”

“Gardening?” That was something he hadn’t expected at all.

“Yeah, why not?”

Gilbert scratched his head. “Don’t know. I don’t exactly see you as someone who likes to root around in the dirt.”

“Well, I do.” Lovino shrugged. “What about you?”

He ticked off on his hand. “Reading also, watching movies, paying video games, playing board games, working out, blogging, baking, role play, wood carving—”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Lovino shifted away slightly so he could look him in the eye from an angle that allowed Gilbert to fully see his confused frown. “ _Wood carving_?”

“Yeah? I’ve done some metal working too, but it’s a lot more difficult and expensive to do as a casual hobby.”

Lovino looked incredibly confused. Gilbert didn’t know whether that was a win or not, taking the man by surprise, but it but it made him feel a little smug nonetheless.

“Right,” Lovino said after a moment. “And… baking?”

Gilbert pursed his lips. “Something wrong with that?” he challenged.

Lovino didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he was being cheeky about it. “I don’t exactly see you as someone who likes to whisk batter and bake cakes.”

“Well, I do,” Gilbert mirrored, not sure whether he was being teased or not. “It’s a good way to relieve stress.”

“Fair enough.” Lovino looked like he was about to settle back against Gilbert, but instead he scooted to the other end of the couch.

They lapsed into silence again. It made Gilbert fidgety.

“Is that… is that everything?”

“Probably not.” Lovino brushed a hand through his hair. “What do you think are things I would like about you?”

Gilbert pursed his lips. “You really can’t think of any yourself?”

“I don’t know. Not now, no.”

“Well, I don’t know what you would like either, nor do I know what I’d like about you, so I guess we’ll just have to improvise or something.”

Lovino pursed his lips, clearly annoyed, but didn’t pursue the topic.

They sat in uncomfortable silence. Gilbert drummed his fingers against his leg, trying to think whether there was anything else they were skipping over.

“So, um, what are we going to do tomorrow?” he asked, cringing slightly at his phrasing.

“Suffer, probably.” At Gilbert’s dry look, he shrugged. “We just do what you’d normally do when you invite a partner home with you, I guess.”

Gilbert sighed, sagging slightly, rubbing his face tiredly as he felt a headache coming in. “Guess so.”

Tomorrow was going to suck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo much talking with a dash of being so fucking stupid.... but next chapter they'll finally have to turn up the "yes i am totally in love with this man whom i know very well because we've been dating for a month" idiocy, so stay tuned!!
> 
> thank you so much for reading and as always comments are loved and appreciated <33


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lovino faces their first "date": dinner with Gilbert and his roommates. It goes... well?

Lovino exhaled slowly, feeling… he wasn’t actually sure what he was feeling currently, but it wasn’t particularly great—mostly a mess of emotions he had no energy to untangle. The work meeting had sapped all his patience already, and now he had to play house with his fake boyfriend who he couldn’t stand most of the time.

God, he wanted to go to bed already.

But here he sat in his car in front of Gilbert’s apartment building, trying to encourage himself to actually go out and face up to the consequences of his actions.

One, two, three—with a deep sigh he opened the door of his car and climbed out. He debated taking the stairs, but laziness won out. The ride on the elevator to Gilbert’s floor was both the shortest and the longest one he’d ever experienced.

Gilbert was stood in the doorway yet again, looking disheveled. His already messy hair was sticking up at odd angles, his clothes wrinkled and askew, and there were pronounced bags underneath his eyes. It was good to know Lovino wasn’t the only one suffering through this ordeal.

“Hey,” he said as he approached, hands in the pockets of his coat.

“Hey.” Gilbert nodded.

They stood there in awkward silence for a moment until Antonio called from inside: “Gil! Stop making out on the doorstep and invite him in already; it’s cold!”

Gilbert flushed, all but jumping back, and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He turned halfway toward the living room, but otherwise seemed reluctant to leave him alone. Misery likes company and all.

Lovino crossed the doorstep and closed the door behind himself, taking his sweet time shrugging off his coat and untying his shoes. No need to rush into the fire when he was already simmering in the frying pan.

He met Gilbert’s eyes as he stood straight again, fixing the cuffs of his shirt, and they seemed as defeated as Lovino felt.

They had a long evening ahead of them.

Upon entering the living room, Lovino was immediately accosted by Antonio, given a firm hug and a lot of empty prattling. He patted Antonio’s back in resignation before untangling himself.

“I still can’t believe the two of you have been keeping this from us, you know?” Antonio said, leading the way to the seating area and settling on the ancient chair carefully.

“It’s—” He blinked when he felt his hand taken gently and he looked back at Gilbert, confused rather than annoyed.

“Sorry. Just, uh, do you want something to drink?” Gilbert asked.

“Water is fine,” Lovino replied after a moment and Gilbert nodded, releasing his hand and walking into the kitchen. He cradled that hand, absently rubbing his thumb over the palm of it as he focused back on Antonio, who was looking at him with curiosity. Taking a seat on the couch, he asked, “What?”

Antonio shrugged. “Nothing. Just… reconciling the image of you and Gilbert not arguing with each other all the time.”

Lovino scoffed. “We still do. It’s just, uh…”

“Lovingly?” Antonio waggled his eyebrows.

“Oh, shut up.” Lovino rolled his eyes while Antonio laughed. “We make it work, but he can still be a pain.”

“Sure, sure. He _is_ Gilbert, after all. Just like you’re still Lovino as well.” Antonio leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin in the palm of his hand, smiling softly. “So, what don’t you find annoying about him?”

Lovino had spent the night pondering that, and stalking the man’s social media to find out more about him, so he felt a little more confident saying: “His movie taste, for one, of course, but I also like how he’s this mix of assertiveness and shyness. It’s rather endearing how he can go from bragging to being flustered in the flash of a second.” He’d extrapolated that from the pictures of Gilbert’s woodcarvings (which he had to admit were pretty cool-looking), where Gilbert would brag about his creations in the post itself, but his replies in the comments were plain shy, bashful and humbling.

Antonio snorted. “You might be the first person to ever say they like _that_ part of his personality.”

Lovino’s eyebrows twitched into a frown, but before he could question that Gilbert returned with two glasses, setting them on the table and sitting down beside Lovino, unnecessarily close (though necessary for their stupidity unfortunately). He pressed his leg against Lovino’s—and it was such a silly gesture Lovino had to suppress a snicker.

“What were you guys talking about?” Gilbert asked when he noticed his entrance had stopped conversation.

“Lovino was just telling me he thinks it’s cute how shy you are.” Antonio smirked at Lovino.

Gilbert shot Lovino a questioning look, but Lovino ignored him, brushing his bangs behind his ear and picking up his glass, deflecting: “Where’s Francis?”

“Taking a shower since the food’s in the oven.” Gilbert shrugged after another moment of studying Lovino. “How was the meeting?”

None of Gilbert’s business, really, but Lovino could play his part in painfully domestic questions. “Nothing special. Just about the marketing campaign for one of my author’s books. Boring as hell.”

“Is it one of your famous authors?”

“No. Ivan’s still working on his manuscript and Hedvika is taking a break. Not that that makes Elaine’s work any less than theirs, of course; I wouldn’t be checking it if I didn’t think it had any sort of value.”

Gilbert hummed. “So you get a choice in whom you edit for?”

“Sometimes. Usually we’re matched based on our specializations, but depending on what the company wants we might end up with something we’re less familiar with.”

“What are yours?”

“Fiction mostly. Detectives, romance, sometimes fantasy and sci-fi. I’m not particularly picky in that regard, honestly.”

Gilbert had the audacity to snort. “Really? I thought you of all people would be incredibly picky.”

Lovino frowned at him. “Why?”

“Cause you’re…” He gestured dismissively. “You know. You.”

Lovino narrowed his eyes, deciding on what way he wanted to chew Gilbert out, but then Antonio started chuckling, startling them both.

“What?” he snapped.

“It’s just…” Antonio shook his head, but his smile was broad. “You two sure make a pair. I think the day you stop arguing will be the day the moon falls from the sky.”

Lovino opened his mouth, but didn’t really know what he should reply to that. What _was_ one to reply to such an insinuation—that they _liked_ arguing with each other? As if Lovino liked anything that had to do with Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Thankfully (or so Lovino thought anyway because it meant he didn’t have to think about things he didn’t want to think about), Francis returned from the bathroom, dressed in nothing but a pair of joggers and a t-shirt—frankly, it was the most casual Lovino had ever seen him.

“Ah, Lovino! You’re here already!” Francis claimed the leather chair on Gilbert’s left, crossing his legs and leaning forward. “How are you?”

“Not any worse than I was yesterday.” At least he wasn’t alone with Gilbert. It had been extremely awkward after the conversation had petered out and he hadn’t stayed much longer. He’d never seen a man look more relieved than when Gilbert had lead him to the front door.

“Why, was not even Gilbert capable of improving your mood?” Francis raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“A blowjob can’t fix everything, Francis,” Lovino replied dryly, ignoring the sharp look he was given by Gilbert.

“Can’t it?” Francis looked like he was about to elaborate, his eyes shifting to Gilbert, but he was cut off.

“Don’t even think about giving me tips again, Francis,” Gilbert growled. “Lovino is just a sourpuss.”

Lovino would have taken offence if he wasn’t more interested in: “Again?”

“No.” Gilbert turned to glare at Lovino then. “I don’t need nor want them. And we _don_ _’t_ have to discuss our sex life.”

It would probably be best to deflect elsewhere as their sex life currently consisted of a drunken one-night stand and an imaginary blowjob, but Lovino was rather reluctant to as he found this flustered, blushing Gilbert rather intriguing.

Antonio laughed in good humour. “All right, all right. No sex tips for Gilbert today. I’m sure Lovi has plenty to share himself anyway.”

“Oh my God,” Gilbert muttered, covering his face with his hands, sagging into the couch as if hoping for it to swallow him whole.

Lovino hid his amusement behind his hand, hesitating a moment on what to do. If he and Gilbert were really dating, if it had been his _ex_ , he would’ve teased him some more (though his ex never got this embarrassed).

Besides, Gilbert was hiding his face anyway, so if he startled, no one would notice. Probably.

Making up his mind, he leaned sideways against the back of the couch, facing Gilbert, and ran his hand carefully through his rough hair. He could feel Gilbert tense, but Lovino didn’t intend to make this last, ruffling Gilbert’s hair with a low chuckle. “Don’t worry, Gilbert, I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

Gilbert was glaring at him from between his fingers now, still blushing. “Fuck you.”

“Well, that is how we’d improve, yes.”

For a moment he thought Gilbert was going to lash out at him, the look in his eyes downright murderous, but then he shook his head, and sagged even further down (which couldn’t be good for his spine).

“Can we _please_ just move on,” he whined.

Francis chuckled, taking pity on him (regrettably). “It still surprises me you two managed to keep this so secret for a month.”

“We mostly spent our time together at my place if we spent it together at all,” Lovino said smoothly, thankfully having thought about that on the ride there. “You know I’ve been terribly busy.”

“So you guys didn’t get to spend all that much time as a couple then?” Antonio pouted, sulking for their sake.

“It’s fine, Toni. Texting and calling exists.” Gilbert rolled his eyes, finally recovering from pushing his spine into a ninety degree angle. He was still red, however, particularly his ears—Huh. They had that in common.

“And we’re adults. We don’t have to speak every single day, let alone see each other,” Lovino added.

“But you two do need some time catching up.” Francis smiled. “We should go out sometime soon, the four of us. It’d be a great way to unwind and get closer.”

Lovino frowned, thinking of a way to refuse and decline. “There’s really no need, Fr—”

He startled as Gilbert’s arm wrapped around his waist and the man leaned closer—oh, for fuck’s sake. His face just spelled trouble. In fact, it spelled a ‘you made me suffer so now I’m getting my revenge’ kind of trouble. Peachy. Not that he understood how anything to do with having to spend even more time together than they already had to was going to humiliate Lovino more than Gilbert, but he also wasn’t particularly keen to find out.

“No, no, Lovino. He’s right. Maybe we should go on a double date sometime. With Francis and his mystery date.”

Ah, so it was a revenge against Francis as well, and Lovino would have tried to object more if Francis hadn’t looked as if Gilbert had suggested they’d shave his head. Now, that was interesting.

“I really don’t think we’ve reached that point quite yet, Gilbert,” Francis said, curling a lock of hair around his finger self-consciously.

“There’s no need to bully Francis,” Lovino added, giving Gilbert a narrow look and hoping he would remove the warm hand resting on his waist, but Gilbert didn’t seem to be in any particular hurry, so he might as well join in. “Seems whomever he’s seeing is far too special to be exposed to our tasteless company.”

Gilbert snorted, which might be the first time Gilbert had ever laughed at anything Lovino had said (not counting the times pre-rejection anyway).

“Our company can be very overwhelming,” Antonio said, nodding sagely.

“Intimidating,” Gilbert agreed.

“All right, you’ve made your point,” Francis huffed, frowning slightly. “We’ve been taking things slowly, so, yes, I don’t want to scare him away quite yet.”

“Have you no faith in us?” Gilbert lamented.

“None whatsoever,” Francis replied dryly. “I’ll invite him in a few weeks, okay? If things are still going well anyway.”

“ _Why_ ,” Antonio whined, stressing the vowel, “is everyone so gloomy about their relationships?” he pouted, resting his face in his hands. “Isn’t it good you guys have been making it work so far? Especially because _you_ never go on more than one date, Francis.”

“Not everyone shares your boundless optimism, Toño,” Lovino said, shifting so he could lean more comfortably against Gilbert considering he still hadn’t withdrawn his arm.

Gilbert shot Lovino a sideways glance, which Lovino answered with a raised eyebrow. Not his fault Gilbert decided to start being touchy-feely. Lovino could play that game too.

“But you and Gilbert seem to be doing fine,” Antonio pointed out.

Gilbert frowned. “You’ve seen us be a couple for two days.”

“Three days. You guys were adorable at the party!” Antonio grinned. “And you look so comfy together. Like I’ve always thought you two would be a good match.”

Lovino didn’t really know how to feel about that, nor what expression to make, but he figured he was doing better than Gilbert, whose fingers tightened momentarily on Lovino’s waist.

He sighed deeply, brushing his hair behind his ear. “I guess so, but that doesn’t guarantee anything.”

Antonio huffed, but Francis interjected, “But you two do like each other, right?”

They could just about tolerate each other now. Maybe.

“Yeah.” Lovino placed his hand on Gilbert’s thigh, gently rubbing his jeans. “It’s just a little weird to be open about it now.”

Gilbert was so fucking tense, Lovino almost felt bad. Almost. Because in the end, they were in this mess together, and he’d be damned if he let Gilbert off the hook for being an ass.

He managed to hum in agreement though. “Yeah, it’s…” Gilbert cleared his throat. “It’s honestly rather new since we’ve been so, uh, secretive about this so far. Almost don’t know how to act in company now.”

“One month is still a fresh relationship anyway,” Francis agreed. “But I’m happy for you two.”

“Me too,” Antonio said, smiling widely. “You both deserve someone sweet. With just a little bit of debate and argument.” He laughed.

Lovino forced a chuckle, and had frankly never been happier to be interrupted by the annoying ring of a cooking timer. Francis moved to the kitchen, and after a moment, Gilbert made to get up as well.

“Gonna set the table,” he answered Lovino’s questioning eyes.

Shrugging his shoulders, Lovino scooted to the arm of the couch so he had something else to lean on. Antonio was shooting him an amused look as Gilbert hurried to the kitchen, speaking in low tones with Francis.

“What?” Lovino asked, not unkindly.

“Nothing.” Antonio leaned forward again, smiling in that sappy way of his when they were watching bad romcoms. Ugh. “I just think you and Gil make a cute couple.” He searched Lovino’s face for a moment, becoming a little more serious. “I think you suit each other well.”

Lovino scowled at him. “If you’re implying what I think you’re implying, I don’t want to hear it out loud. Just because Gil and I are trying this thing out doesn’t mean everything is fine and dandy.”

Antonio sighed softly. “I know, but I hope you’ll be able to move on from him.” He gave an encouraging smile. “Gil’s a good guy. And he could use a good guy himself.”

Gilbert could use a good guy? Did he have some shitty ex as well? He frankly couldn’t remember if Gilbert had ever brought a partner to an outing he was present at, but that didn’t really mean anything as Lovino had hardly ever paid attention to Gilbert. Perhaps he’d stalk Gilbert’s social media again later tonight.

Instead of answering Lovino’s questioning look, Antonio got to his feet as the smell of something incredibly cheesy wafted into the living room. “Ahh, I’m starving! Francis made us some vegetarian dish that’s been slow cooking in the oven for ages.”

Lovino was reluctant to drop the topic, but Antonio clearly wasn’t going to tell him anything more, so he got to his feet with a deep sigh.

Gilbert was laying the last of the cutlery on the table, humming something while Francis fussed over dinner behind him.

Lovino debated for a moment on what to do, but he figured it’d be weird if he didn’t make contact—and besides Gilbert had started that—so he waited until Gilbert’s hands were empty before sidling up to him, lightly touching the small of his back.

To give Gilbert some credit, he didn’t jump and no cutlery was sent flying. He did freeze for a moment before he shot Lovino a glare.

Lovino gave him a pleasant smile in return, bumping his hip against Gilbert’s. “Payback,” he muttered while Antonio was talking loudly with Francis.

“For what?” Gilbert hissed.

“You know what.” Lovino gave him a dry look.

Gilbert pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes in what might have been a challenge.

Bah, as if Captain Awkward could do anything worse.

“Lovino, will you be drinking tonight?” Antonio asked from behind Gilbert, giving the other time to school his expression while Lovino turned his attention to Antonio.

“No, I have to drive home.”

“Why?” Francis raised his eyebrows at him as he came in with the ceramic dish, the top completely covered in cheese, and put it on the coaster. “You can just stay over, no?”

Lovino blinked dumbly at him for a moment.

“You know I have work early, Francis,” Gilbert replied quickly. “Don’t want to ruin his beauty sleep. He definitely needs it.”

Lovino sincerely wished he could slap the smug look from his face.

“I’ve never known Lovino to be a light sleeper,” Antonio said with a laugh, grabbing another glass from the cabinet. “I bought good wine specially for tonight.” He made a show of pouting, acting dejected, knowing Lovino hadn’t been able to say no to that look since the day, twenty years ago, when Antonio had kicked his soccer ball into Lovino’s yard and begged for the older boy to play with him.

Lovino sighed, rubbing his forehead. “If you insist.” He avoided looking at Gilbert by sitting down and taking the offered wine bottle from Antonio to read the label.

Gilbert was silent, but noisily pulled out his chair and sat down. Lovino could feel he was upset, but what was he supposed to do? He could deal with Antonio’s whining even less than with Gilbert’s general existence.

Francis insisted on plating everyone, explaining the dish as something he had found in a magazine and wished to try out, so why not now? It did look great, and Lovino was never one to complain about good food, especially not _Francis_ ’ good food.

Dinner was quieter, likely because Gilbert was either sulking or simmering, Lovino couldn’t tell, but Antonio was more than capable of carrying most of the conversation.

“So, how do you guys plan on going to Aurélie’s?” Francis asked, elaborating when Lovino shot him a confused look. “I mean, will you and Gilbert go together?”

Lovino narrowed his eyes at Francis. “Is this your roundabout way of asking for a lift from me?”

“How kind of you to offer, Lovino!” Francis exclaimed while Antonio laughed.

“I want to drink though,” Lovino said with a frown. Well, he would likely _need_ to drink to get through the night as Gilbert’s boyfriend in a very public setting—after all, his drunk self had been much more capable of doing it convincingly than his sober self.

“We can take the bus back!” Antonio chirped unhelpfully. “Or stay over. Aurélie wouldn’t mind.”

“You might as well, Lovino,” Gilbert said, clearly intent on making Lovino suffer in other ways, and nudged him with his elbow. Lovino tried not to hit him. “Since you’re such a great boyfriend, and you like me so much.”

Lovino gave him a very long look. “Fine, fine. But someone better make sure I make it home. _And_ pay for the bus ticket back to Aurélie to pick up my damn car the next day.”

“So stingy.” Antonio laughed, prodding Lovino’s leg with his foot. “Who has the best paying job out of all of us?”

“I can still rescind my offer,” Lovino threatened over the rim of his wine glass, taking a deep sip after.

“I’m sure Gilbert can sweeten you up for us,” Francis laughed.

Lovino snorted, finding the thought of Gilbert trying to be romantic to win his favour frankly a hilarious one. He couldn’t imagine Gilbert as a very romantic person; he was far too… well, unromantic. Roses and silly gestures would both be lost and wasted on him.

“He can try,” he said, shooting Gilbert a sideways glance.

Gilbert had his mouth full and shot Lovino a look as he hurried to swallow to answer. “You have to come here anyway to pick me up. Or do you want me to come stay over Thursday? You know, ‘to sweeten you up’.”

So he wanted to play that game? Too bad Lovino was better at it.

He put his knife down and laid his hand on Gilbert’s arm, leaning closer with a smug smile as Gilbert froze momentarily. “I suppose you did enough of that yesterday, so I’ll let you off the hook.”

Gilbert’s eyebrows twitched as he tried not to scowl, instead managing a dejected turn of his lips. “Maybe I should ask you to return the favour to me instead.”

“Some other time.” Lovino smiled suggestively, and the blush that coloured Gilbert’s cheeks was a nice enough prize for leaving his dignity behind.

Francis chuckled from the other side of the table while Antonio cooed. Lovino didn’t want to think too much about that, so he returned to his food without looking at anyone.

The remainder of dinner was fairly amicable, the conversation moving to more inane topics, and all things considered it was completely fine, even when he and Gilbert had a brief spat about the municipality’s plans to build a new town hall that they managed to keep civil through sheer force of will.

Once the oven pan had been emptied, mostly by Gilbert and Antonio, though Lovino hadn’t refrained from a second helping either, Gilbert got up and started collecting the dishes. Lovino considered helping for a moment, but he was the guest here, so that really shouldn’t be expected of him.

It didn’t stop Gilbert from putting his hand on the back of Lovino’s chair and hovering over him. “Help me do the dishes.”

Lovino looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m a guest.”

“All the more reason to pull your weight. Come on, up.”

Lovino inhaled sharply as Gilbert tickled the back of his neck, swatting his hand away, only for Gilbert to catch it and drag him out of his chair by brute force.

A dish towel was shoved into his hands and he pursed his lips in distaste, glaring at the drying rack while Gilbert filled the sink.

“I don’t see why my help is needed when they can just dry overnight,” Lovino complained, mostly to get underneath Gilbert’s skin.

Gilbert shrugged. “This way I don’t have to think about it anymore.”

Lovino rolled his eyes, taking the washed plate Gilbert handed him. “That’s a terrible reason.”

Gilbert blew him a raspberry before focusing on the task at hand.

This man was by far too childish. Lovino had to wonder how anyone could ever put up with him. Well, all things considered, no one _was_ willing to because somehow they had ended up in _this_ situation.

And wait—everyone kept saying they _suited_ together… Did that mean people thought Lovino was attracted to childish idiots? Was that his _type_?

No. No, that couldn’t be right.

Antonio wasn’t a neutral party anyway.

He startled when Gilbert flicked his wet fingers in front of his face, raining droplets of gross food water on his face.

“Dreaming about me?” Gilbert asked, raising his eyebrows, smirking slightly, as if this was going to be his grand comeback.

Lovino whipped his ass with the dish towel in retaliation, relishing in the offended squawk. “About tying you up and having my wicked way with you later tonight, sure,” he said dryly.

Gilbert shot him a sour look, his ears red. He let the oven dish soak, leaning against the counter as he watched Lovino dry. It was annoying as hell, and Lovino was about to snap at him for it, but almost dropped the plate he was holding when Gilbert wrapped his arm around his waist and _kissed his cheek for no fucking reason_.

The bemused, victoriously smug smile Gilbert smiled at him was something he wanted to punch off so badly, but instead he had to settle for angrily drying the plate and thinking of suitable payback for later. But there was not a single scenario where that wouldn’t be sexually charged in some way. And he didn’t particularly _want_ to kiss Gilbert in any sort of voluntary manner either.

What an absurd dilemma to have. Ivan would certainly love it for one of his trashy romances. He was certainly reaching a new low, huh...

Gilbert’s fingers were absently playing with the buttons on Lovino’s dress shirt, likely enjoying his small victory and the fact Lovino’s hands were otherwise occupied and not squeezing around his neck.

“You could be a dear and put the dishes I’ve dried away,” Lovino said sharply, shooting him a narrow look.

“But I don’t want to spend time apart from my _boyfriend_ ,” Gilbert sang.

Oh, this asshole.

He was about to abandon the dishes in favour of murder, but was stalled by the other two idiots snickering behind him.

“What?” he snapped, glaring back at them.

“It’s just been so long since I’ve seen either of you happy while in a relationship,” Antonio said, resting his face in the palm of his hand as he smiled at them.

Lovino huffed, disliking the fact he couldn’t exactly refute that statement. It was still odd to him that Gilbert also hadn’t been in a good relationship for a while. He glanced at him, curious to see his reaction, but Gilbert only rolled his eyes at Antonio.

“You’ve hardly seen us be a couple,” he said, annoyed.

Antonio shrugged. “You just seem so close.”

“And it’s a good thing, no?” Francis raised his eyebrows at them.

“Well, yeah, duh.” Gilbert shifted uncomfortably. “Just… It’s not really nice to hear your previous relationships being spoken of as if they were something bad.”

Francis and Antonio shared a look, one that Lovino couldn’t decipher, but Gilbert clearly understood their telepathy, grumbling something under his breath as he turned around to start scrubbing the oven pan.

Lovino looked at him for a moment longer before continuing with drying, for the first time mildly regretting not being closer to Gilbert the tiniest bit, if only because he was extremely curious. Well, maybe he’d come to learn of it eventually...

Wait. Why should he even care?

“Regardless,” Francis said, breaking the weird silence, “There’s no reason to be so on edge. Or are you two that used to publicly hating one another?”

Maybe, at this rate, at some point, they would begin to find this hilarious. But right now, currently, Lovino wanted to kick something.

“It’s just weird,” he said instead.

“Well, plenty of time to get used to it now though, right?” Antonio chirped.

Lovino and Gilbert both hummed half-heartedly. In the end, they were suffering the same idiotic fate, and they had no one to blame but themselves.

Gilbert put the oven pan in the drying rack and leaned on his hands on the counter, staring into the filthy, soapy water of the sink as if contemplating whether he could drown himself in it.

If he wasn’t still annoyed by that cheek kiss, Lovino might have felt an ounce of pity for him. As it were, Gilbert could choke on whatever self-pity he was feeling for all Lovino cared.

After another moment, Gilbert finally pulled out the plug and dried his hands on another towel, moving around Lovino to begin setting the dishes away.

Thankfully, the peanut gallery finally had enough of watching and migrated to the living room, giving Lovino the opportunity to glare at Gilbert.

“You started it,” he defended petulantly after a quick glance toward his retreating roommates.

“You didn’t have to escalate it.” Lovino was careful to keep a firm grip on the oven dish he was now drying.

“Rich coming from you.”

Lovino wanted to tear into him so badly, but he had to admit his own hypocrisy to some degree. Reluctantly.

“Besides,” Gilbert added, pressing himself against Lovino’s back and settling his hands on his waist. “Weren’t you the one who told me to ‘grow up’ when it came to doing this kind of stuff?”

He had, but he hadn’t expected Gilbert would just _dive right in_.

“You’re such dead meat, Beilschmidt,” he hissed.

And the bastard had the audacity to laugh, squeezing Lovino’s hips, and muttered by his ear. “Your dead meat?”

Grabbing a fistful of Gilbert’s shirt, Lovino twisted in his arms to make sure the full effect of his glare could be felt. “Is this the game you want to play?”

Gilbert narrowed his eyes in response to his challenge. “I’m not going to sit back and let you waltz all over my boundaries, no.”

Lovino couldn’t help the derisive snort that escaped him. “So you’ll waltz over mine?”

“You never struck me as a man with any sort of standard.”

“Clearly, since I slept with _you_.”

Whatever angry retort was brewing in Gilbert’s throat never got out as they were reminded that one, they weren’t alone, and two, their arguments had to be reigned in to something that could possibly be construed as playful banter. 

“Hey, lovebirds! Are you going to keep making out in the kitchen or will you join us for some reruns of CSI?” Francis called from the living room.

For one long, awkward moment, they stared at one another, unsure of how to proceed.

Slowly, Lovino released Gilbert’s shirt, hesitated for a brief second, then quickly straightened it for him, tugging on the hem and smoothing out the creases, avoiding Gilbert’s eyes boring into him.

Equally slowly, Gilbert released his hips, taking a measured step back, and ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, we’re, uh… we’re coming,” he answered, then quickly added, throwing a glare past his shoulder, “Don’t even, Francis.”

Francis and Antonio laughed, and Lovino tried not to look like he had swallowed a lemon. He flinched when Gilbert stepped closer again, and he was about to snap when Gilbert simply grabbed the oven pan, returning it to whatever cabinet it came from.

Lovino hesitated for a moment, but there was little reason to linger in the kitchen, so he joined the other two in the living room, curling up on the couch.

Antonio was kind enough to hand him his wineglass, and he sipped demurely, not at all looking forward to having to share a bed with Gilbert later. They might actually murder one another. And sure, the murder motive was a little repetitive at this point, but he simply had this odd sense of dread and anger that seemed like it was going to stay for the duration of this particular hell.

Well, it would solve the problem of having to pretend to date… Lovino was just loathe to admit he would likely be the one doing the dying considering Gilbert was some sort of repressed bodybuilder, and he hadn’t lived a fulfilling life yet.

Gilbert eventually joined him on the couch, clutching a beer as if his life depended on it, sitting stiffly, back straight.

After a little while, sometime after the second murder of the episode, Lovino poked his leg with his toe, mainly because Francis had looked at them with a strange expression.

He was ignored, so he did it again and again until Gilbert finally scowled at him, his hand grabbing onto Lovino’s ankle.

“What time do you want to go to bed?” Lovino asked softly.

“After this episode,” Gilbert replied slowly, frowning at him. “You can join me later; I don’t care.”

Lovino was going to go out on a limb and not believe him. Gilbert seemed exactly like the type of guy who’d wake up at the slightest noise and hold it against you till the day you died.

A quick glance at Francis revealed as much, the disbelief painted clearly in his arched eyebrows, so Lovino felt justified enough to poke Gilbert again.

“No way. I’ll go to bed with you. I’d trip in the dark and wake you up otherwise.”

Gilbert was trying very hard not to look too displeased, succeeding to a certain degree. “I won’t be able to sleep with you twisting and turning because you went to bed too early either.”

Pursing his lips, Lovino leaned forward to pinch his arm. “I’m not a child. I’m going to bed with you and that’s that.”

He had to wonder whether the teeth clenching was something Gilbert always did when they fought or if it was going to be a special development for their special situation.

Gilbert kind of forced a shrug, expression caught between a glare, annoyance, and exasperation.

Lovino ignored the look Antonio was shooting him, curling more comfortably into himself. Sleeping as soon as he could would mean this night could end as quickly as possible as well. He definitely didn’t want to risk staying behind with the terrible two and be interrogated some more.

They got halfway through the second episode, and halfway through a third bottle of wine, before Gilbert started yawning. Lovino watched him mid-yawn, noting how sharp his cheekbones were. Really, Gilbert could have been handsome, his type maybe, but apart from his reproachful personality, he was too pale, too muscle-brained, too much Beilschmidt.

Hiding a yawn of his own behind his hand, he honestly wasn’t opposed to going to bed early. He’d slept like shit the previous night, too stressed out about all of this, so not even the prospect of it being in Gilbert’s bed bothered him as much now. The good red wine settling in his belly and swirling in his head helped take the edge off as well.

He blinked as Gilbert pulled himself to his feet, eyes falling to where his shirt hitched up as he stretched, then realized what he was doing and drowned himself in the remainder of his wine.

Alcohol _really_ mucked up his standards, didn’t it? Dear God in heaven…

Gilbert glanced at him. “I’m going. Are you sure you don’t want to—” He was cut off by a yawn, and Lovino took that as his cue, and opening, to unfurl and stand up, grabbing Gilbert’s arm to steady himself.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He set his wine glass on the coffee table as he tried to stifle a yawn.

“So how long should I give you guys before it’s safe to go to my room?” Antonio asked, smirking.

Lovino kicked his leg. “We’re not going to do shit tonight, Toño.”

“Never say never,” Francis sang, laughing loudly at Gilbert’s sour expression.

“Yeah, you could show Gil those _tips—_ _”_

“ _Okay_! We’re going now.” Gilbert grabbed Lovino’s arm, hauling him from the living room into the hallway leading to his bedroom.

Lovino stumbled after him, snickering softly, grabbing the back of Gilbert’s shirt with his other hand so he wouldn’t eat shit.

“Calm _down_ , Gil,” he hissed. “No need to act like such a virgin.”

Gilbert shot him a glare past his shoulder, his cheeks an unflattering blotchy red, and continued to drag him until they reached his bedroom, closing the door behind them with an angry huff while Lovino crossed his arms, cocking his hip to the side to look at him disapprovingly.

“I’m serious I need to sleep, you know,” Gilbert said, warily circling Lovino on his way to the closet as if he expected him to jump him.

“So you’ve said.” He started picking at the buttons on his shirt. “Or do you think I want to have sex with you that badly?” He turned his head to give Gilbert a flutter of his eyelashes.

Gilbert sputtered. “ _No_. You should’ve just gone home.”

Lovino rolled his eyes with a scoff, turning to face Gilbert. “You’re a big boy, Gilbo. I’m sure you can survive sharing a bed with me one more night.”

Ignoring the foul look he was given, Lovino shrugged off his dress shirt, hanging it over the back of Gilbert’s desk chair, and unbuttoned his trousers.

“What do you usually sleep in?” Gilbert asked begrudgingly as he took off his own t-shirt.

“My birthday suit.” Lovino couldn’t help but laugh at Gilbert’s disgusted expression. “Good God, Gilbert, you’ve seen everything already. Touched it even. Licked and kissed and suc—”

“That’s not the point!” Gilbert’s fluster had to be a combination of embarrassment and anger, bleeding into his ears and down his neck. “Your junk is getting nowhere near my bed; I don’t want to have to wash my bedsheets _again_.”

Lovino had kicked off his trousers and pulled off his socks while Gilbert jabbered on, standing in his undershirt and boxers. “So you want me to sleep in your clothes? How cute.”

Maybe actively soliciting murder wasn’t the best of his ideas—he had a bunch of deadlines and it’d be unfortunate for everyone if he wouldn’t make them—but really, Gilbert made it too easy.

Gilbert’s fingers twitched, his teeth grinding together.

“Just…” he ground out. “Get in the bed, Lovino.”

Lovino narrowed his eyes. “You don’t get to order me around.”

He _hated_ how much height Gilbert had over him, and he tilted his head back with as much disdain as he could muster when Gilbert stepped in his personal space. They stood there glaring each other down for a stupid amount of time until Gilbert pushed his shoulders and Lovino lost his balance, not expecting Gilbert to actually use any sort of force on him.

He hit the bed with an “oof”, but Gilbert had turned his back to him by the time he’d processed what had occurred.

“You are _so_ dead, Beilschmidt,” he hissed as he shifted underneath the covers, scooting over to the side he’d slept on before.

Gilbert made some aggressive motion with his shoulders as he searched his closet for something. It was a shame Gilbert was such a dick because his bare back did make a nice view. And then, if you lowered your eyes too far, you were faced with his disappointingly flat ass.

Disgruntled, Lovino turned on his side with his back to Gilbert.

It took forever for Gilbert to apparently find something to sleep in (or he was just stalling the inevitable, Mr. I-Seriously-Have-To-Sleep), turn off the lights, and then the asshole purposefully held the covers open to let in all the cold air. Lovino kicked his legs back, taking satisfaction in the pained grunt Gilbert growled.

The air was fraught with awkward tension. Lovino almost wished he actually was drunk; at least he hadn’t remembered most of That Night (trademark currently pending)…

Rolling onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow that seemed to be drenched in whatever cheap deodorant Gilbert used, Lovino had to wonder whether this was worth it. Sure, they’d gotten through the evening as a couple, and _apparently_ no one would bat an eyelid at them bickering and hissing at each other, but for how long could they keep this up if they barely managed to remain civil even now?

“Gilbert,” his mouth said before his brain could think too much about it. When he got no response, he turned his head toward him and repeated, “Gilbert?”

“What?” came the angry hiss.

Lovino shifted his arms underneath his pillow, settling in more comfortably, even if his shirt already felt sticky and constricting. “So, a good way to please your partner during a blowjob is—”

He chortled as Gilbert hit him with a pillow that might actually be filled with bricks what with the force it hit, but at least the stupid tension had dissipated, meaning Lovino might actually be able to sleep some.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Lovino chirped.

“Shut the fuck up, Vargas.”

Lovino waited a beat, then decided to do a blind pat for Gilbert’s face. He found his nose first, and Gilbert growled in what Lovino was going to presume a first warning. He brushed over his thin lips, down then up along his jaw, finally giving his cheek a small, loving pat.

“Love you, _tesoro mio_.”

The pillow hurt more the second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you try to upstage your fake boyfriend in fake relationship things… yeah, you get yourself in the mess these two will get themselves into  
> Next chapter: another lunch with Emma, except Gilbert has been added to the hot seat
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and let me know your thoughts :D


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